by Susan Stoker
Her right eye was a dark-blue color, like a stormy sea. Gray had a feeling in different light, it would change hues. And the left was a hazel brown. The effect was somewhat startling, but didn’t detract from her beauty at all. Her eyes were wide set, with extremely long lashes. Her cheeks were currently flushed despite the cold water, and he could tell she was stressed to the max.
When dry, her hair had been a rich chestnut color, except for a streak of white that was about an inch wide and ran from the top of her scalp down the right side of her head. It went all the way to the end of her hair, which hung past her shoulders. Like her gaze, it was unusual and eye-catching. And it fit her. Gray didn’t know how he knew that, but he did.
Her body was lithe under his hand. She was muscular and in shape, as any professional dancer would be.
The casual way she’d asked if he had a handcuff key had amused him. He’d expected her to be hysterical. At the very least crying, but she’d seemed to be holding up extremely well. Everything he’d seen so far had attracted him . . . but he wasn’t here to pick up a date. Not even close.
Disgusted with himself, Gray mentally shook his head. He needed to concentrate on getting them as close to the rendezvous point as possible. If necessary, Gray probably could’ve made it all the way to shore, since he had on the dry suit and was somewhat used to the freezing ocean temperature, but he highly doubted the kitten in his arms could.
Keeping her mind occupied so she didn’t panic was his focus right now.
“Sorry,” Gray apologized, remembering her earlier statement about wanting some warning before being flung through the air as if she were a child rather than a full-grown woman. “I saw the boat sinking out of the corner of my eye and just reacted.”
She sighed and said through chattering teeth. “It’s okay.”
“How’d you get all the way over here so quickly?” He could feel her legs brushing against his as they treaded water. Thoughts of their legs tangling in a different way shot through his brain, but he pushed the image aside. Not the time, and definitely not the place.
She shrugged. “I realized even before I landed what was probably happening, and visions of the Titanic flashed through my brain. I didn’t want to be sucked down with the boat, so I swam underwater for as long as I could hold my breath.”
“Smart,” Gray murmured.
Her eyebrows rose.
“What?” he asked.
“A man—a macho, obviously badass man—admitting that something a woman did was smart?”
He couldn’t help but chuckle. “I’m more than capable of telling you when you’ve done something right,” he defended.
She looked at him warily. “But . . .” She let the word trail off.
“But I’m also capable of telling you when you’ve done something stupid. And going back for a piece of jewelry, or whatever it was you felt you couldn’t leave that bedroom without, was just plain stupid. If the boat had gone under when we were still in that room, more than likely, we’d be headed for the bottom, along with the two goons that were on board with you.”
She stared at him for a moment before sighing and turning her head away. “It only took about three seconds, but you’re right. Sorry.”
The apology was appropriate for the situation, but the tone wasn’t. She sounded disappointed. In him. And that irked him.
Gray knew something was wrong, but then again, lots of things were wrong right about now. He wanted to demand she tell him what was so damn important she’d been willing to die for it . . . but he didn’t. They had a rough ordeal ahead of them, and he wanted to stay on her good side. The last thing he needed was for her to get upset with him and become even more difficult.
“What’s your name?” he asked, even though he already knew. Keeping her talking was paramount. It would keep her mind occupied and allow him to assess her physical state.
“Allye. Like the space between two buildings, but the y comes before the e.”
He chuckled. “You sound like you’ve made that explanation a lot.”
She shrugged. “I have.”
“And your last name?”
“Martin. Allye Martin. And you?”
“Grayson Rogers.” He didn’t have any problem telling her his real name. It wasn’t like she could google him and discover he was with the Mountain Mercenaries. When he wasn’t being sent around the world by Rex to take care of horrible human beings who deserved whatever they got, he was an accountant. A damn good one at that.
“Nice to meet you, Grayson,” Allye said.
Gray couldn’t help it. He laughed.
Her eyes narrowed. “What’s so funny?”`
“You, kitten. Here we are, in the middle of the ocean, no boat, no life jackets, and you’re acting as if we’re in the middle of an eighteenth-century parlor or something.”
She pushed at him, and he let her go. He needed to assess her swimming skills anyway, and this seemed as good a time as any.
“Would you rather I start screaming and crying? Is that it? Acting like a helpless victim? I’ve never been a victim in my life, and I’m not about to start now. And I don’t cry, so you can forget that too.”
“Ever?”
“What?”
“You don’t cry ever?”
She shrugged, but continued to glare at him. “No.”
“Why not?”
Her eyes widened. “Can we not talk about this?”
“Why not?” he asked again.
“Shit, you sound like a two-year-old. Why, why, why?” she complained.
He chuckled. Damn if this wasn’t almost fun. “It’s not like we have anything else to do at the moment,” he said. “I mean, while we’re hanging out, we might as well get to know each other. Why don’t you cry?”
She said something under her breath that he didn’t catch, but sounded a lot like, “Save me from macho men,” then turned to face him. “Because it doesn’t do any good. All crying does is make others uncomfortable and make you miserable.”
“Crying doesn’t make me uncomfortable,” he told her.
She rolled her eyes. “Of course it doesn’t.”
“Crying is a good way to release emotion. If I’m around a kid, and he or she is crying, it tells me that they’re hurting, physically or mentally.”
“And if a woman cries?” Allye asked.
“Then I have to figure out who I need to beat the shit out of or kill.”
Gray hadn’t thought about what he was saying before the words were already out of his mouth. He inwardly cringed. He hadn’t meant to remind her of what she’d just escaped. He knew what she was going to ask before she even opened her mouth.
“You killed them, didn’t you?”
He didn’t have to ask who “them” was. Sighing, and deciding to go with the truth and hopefully continue to gain her trust, he simply said, “Yes.”
“Good.”
Her answer was short and succinct, and threw Gray for a loop. It wasn’t as if he was feeling remorse for what he’d done, but it had been a long time since a civilian had been as bluntly appreciative of his actions as Allye seemed to be.
When he didn’t say anything, she got defensive. “I mean, it’s not like they were pillars of San Francisco society or something. I begged the one guy to help me escape, but he acted like I wasn’t even there. He knew I wasn’t on that boat of my own free will, and he didn’t care. And that other guy . . .”
Gray saw her visibly shudder.
“He may as well have been Satan’s brother. He was so cold.”
Gray flexed his arms and floated closer to Allye. The moon was bright in the dark sky, giving enough light that he could see her face. He didn’t touch her, but he was right in front of her, so he could make out her facial expression as he asked his next question. “Did he rape you?”
Allye blinked at his frank words. “No,” she answered without hesitation. “But he sure took pleasure in telling me all about the man who had bought me, and how I was to call
him Master, and how he was going to enjoy every inch of my body . . . after he ‘trained’ me. As if. I’m not a fucking dog to be brought to heel.”
“Do you know who bought you?” Gray hated even saying the words. It sounded so wrong to say bought you, as if she were truly a slave. But they weren’t exactly in a situation where they should, or could, beat around the bush.
Allye shook her head. “No. The guy never told me his name. But he said that my new master has been watching me for a while now, and that he’s obsessed with me . . . hence sending someone to escort me. He wanted to make sure nothing happened to his property.”
Gray was thoroughly confused. If the person who’d bought her had been watching her, it was likely he lived or worked in or around San Francisco. And if he lived in the same city as Allye . . . why all the subterfuge? Why not just have the escort bring her straight to him? The boats made no sense.
Making a note to discuss that with Rex, he asked, “You’re a dancer, yeah?”
She nodded. “Uh-huh. With the Dance Theatre of San Francisco.”
“Ballet?”
Allye rolled her eyes. “Why does everyone think every dancer does ballet? No. I mean, I can do ballet, but it’s not my thing. I do pretty much every other type of dancing. Modern, jazz, ballroom, even some tap. I once spent three months on tour with Janet Jackson. Let me tell you, that was so much harder than the nightly gigs I do with the theatre. She’s a perfectionist, and if we screwed something up during a show, she didn’t hesitate to let us know . . . and we had to practice an extra two hours before the next performance.”
A wave came out of nowhere and crashed over both their heads. Gray shook off the water as if he had gills on either side of his neck, but Allye coughed and spluttered as she spit out salt water.
If Gray could’ve kicked his own ass at that moment, he would’ve. They needed to be heading toward safety, not treading water and shooting the shit. The more salt water she consumed, the worse off she would be. But that was the least of their worries. She’d die of hypothermia long before the salt in her system became an issue.
“When’s the last time you had anything to eat or drink?” he asked, coming close again and grabbing hold of her biceps with his hand.
“I’m not sure. But not too long ago. Asshole guy made me eat and drink when we first got on board. Said that if he showed up with me sick or dehydrated, my master wouldn’t be happy.”
Gray felt unusually angry at hearing the reminder of what had nearly happened to the woman, but he shook it off. “Good. Here’s the deal. Do whatever you can to not swallow the seawater.”
She nodded. “I’m not an idiot. I’ve seen movies and TV shows where people are stranded in the ocean for days and go crazy after consuming all the salt.”
“We aren’t going to be in here for days,” Gray informed her. He didn’t add that if they were in the ocean for hours, let alone days, they’d be dead because of the water temperature. If she wasn’t going to bring it up right now, neither was he.
“Uh-huh. I hate to break it to you, Grayson, but those lights are a lot farther away than they appear. Not to mention this isn’t exactly the neighborhood backyard swimming pool. Creatures with teeth, lots of teeth, live in this ocean.”
“Gray.”
“What?”
“My name. It’s Grayson, but everyone calls me Gray.”
She stared at him for a second before rolling her eyes once more. “Fine. Whatever. Gray.”
“You do that a lot,” he told her.
“Do what?”
“Roll your eyes.”
“That’s because you’re saying stuff that’s so ridiculous I can’t help it,” she shot back.
Yeah, it was safe to say he liked her. Liked her spirit. Liked that she wasn’t freaking out. Liked that she could still throw sass at him even though she’d just been through a horrific experience. “I’m a good swimmer,” he informed her.
“So am I,” she said immediately. “But that doesn’t mean I can swim a million miles to shore before either freezing to death, dying of thirst, or being eaten by a shark.”
Gray reached up and took her head in his hands, supporting both their weights in the water with the constant movement of his legs. “I’m going to get you home, kitten. Mark my words.”
This time she didn’t roll her eyes. She stared into his own with her mismatched ones and simply nodded.
Chapter Three
9:18 p.m.
“Can you tell me what happened? How you ended up on that boat?” Gray asked after they’d been swimming for a few minutes. He could already feel Allye shivering every time he brushed against her in the water. He’d gotten her into the wet suit, but it wasn’t going to keep her alive if Black didn’t hurry up and find them.
“I c-can’t tell you much. I was on my way home and had gotten off the streetcar. There were vehicles parked all along the s-street, as usual, and just as I was approaching one, the back door opened, and someone jumped out. He grabbed me, and I was in the back seat before I could do more than squeak in s-surprise. I started screaming as soon as I could, but he’d already shut the door, the car was already m-moving, and he’d injected me with something.”
“Injected you?” Gray asked, hating the way she was stuttering from the cold. He wasn’t supposed to meet up with Black for nearly an hour. He wasn’t sure Allye had that kind of time.
She nodded. “Yeah. Stuck a needle right in my thigh. Hurt like a m-mother. When I woke up, I was being carried onto the boat. I yelled at the c-captain that I was being kidnapped and to help me, but you already know he ignored me.”
Gray was disappointed that she didn’t know more, but wasn’t surprised.
“Tell me about your f-family,” Allye asked, obviously wanting to change the subject.
“I have a brother, Jackson, who’s three years younger than me.”
“Let me guess, he also spends his days rescuing damsels in d-distress.”
“He’s an elementary schoolteacher,” Gray told her.
She was silent for a beat, then began to giggle.
The sound echoed in the water around them, and Gray couldn’t help but smile in return. He could just imagine her rolling her eyes.
“Seriously?” she asked.
They were swimming side by side, doing a modified breaststroke with their heads above the waves so they could talk. They’d used the freestyle stroke for a while, but because it was dark, Gray wanted to be able to assess how she was doing by talking to her. It was also easier to make sure they weren’t drifting apart in the darkness if they swam like this.
“Seriously,” he confirmed. “Growing up, he wanted to be the usual things—fireman, policeman, cowboy—but in his senior year in high school, he was required to take a semester class called Occupations. They were exposed to all sorts of different jobs, and he said the day he spent volunteering in a third-grade class, something clicked.”
“That’s c-cool.”
“It is cool. He’s a damn good teacher too. He’s won all sorts of awards, and his kids love him.”
“I bet your parents are proud,” Allye said.
Gray heard something in her tone, something he couldn’t interpret. “Yeah, my mom has always liked him best,” he quipped. “My dad died a while ago, but he would’ve also been as pleased as punch that his son is doing something he loves and making a difference in kids’ lives.”
Allye didn’t respond.
“What about you?”
“What about me what?” she asked.
“What about your family?”
“I don’t have one.”
Gray blinked and tried to see her face in the darkness. He couldn’t. “Everyone has a family.”
“No, Gray, they don’t. Some people just aren’t meant to have a m-mom who loves them.”
“Bullshit,” Gray retorted.
He heard her choke a little, but she didn’t rise to his bait.
“I don’t care if it’s an adoptive mother, a f
oster mom, or a biological one, every kid deserves to be the apple of a mom’s eye.”
“How’d you end up on that boat r-rescuing a damsel in distress, anyway?” Allye asked after a couple of minutes had gone by.
Gray wanted to know more about her mother. Wanted to know whose ass he needed to kick, but he allowed the change in conversation. “It’s a long story,” he warned.
She snorted, and once again, he could imagine her rolling her eyes. “It’s not like we have anything else to do at the m-moment,” she said sarcastically.
“True. Let’s see . . . I’m not sure where to start.”
“How about at the beginning?”
Gray grinned. He liked this woman. He was beginning to regret the fact that after Black found them, and they reached shore, he’d be leaving her behind. It had been a long time since a woman had snared his interest as thoroughly as Allye had.
“Right, the beginning. I got a swimming scholarship to the US Naval Academy, and once I graduated, immediately tried out for the SEALs. I thought I knew what to expect from the notorious Hell Week, but no one can ever be prepared for that.”
“You were a SEAL. That explains a lot,” she said with no sarcasm whatsoever. “I’ve seen some d-documentaries on the kinds of training you went through,” Allye said as they continued to slowly swim through the water. “It looks miserable.”
“It is miserable,” Gray confirmed. “It’s the worst thing I’ve ever been through in my entire life. I wanted to puke and quit every single second.”
“Why didn’t you? Quit, I mean,” she asked.
“Because I was pissed at the instructors. I knew they were doing everything they could to get us to quit—me, especially—since I was an officer, and that made me all the more determined not to let them win.”
“Hmmm.”
Gray knew it was an impossible concept for anyone to grasp who hadn’t been through the physical and mental torture. And it had been torture. But it had also been the best thing that had ever happened to him. He’d used what he’d learned from those hard-as-nails instructors several times over, and it had saved his life more than once.
